"He didn't!"

.

"Actually, you were my first suspect, Mr. Neelix".

"M-Mis-ter V-Vul-can, h-how c-could you!" Neelix was stuttering from indignation. "Who d-d-do you think I-I am?!"

"Resident of the Delta Quadrant, a former smuggler, someone who knows things which are unfamiliar to the rest of the crew. The chef of this ship who has unlimited access to all kinds of exotic provisions, including eggs of various species. Also someone who very often engages in the so-called "partying for the sake of crew morale" and likes to invent strange activities", - recited Tuvok, deadpan and matter-of-factly.

"B-B-But, M-Mister V-Vulcan!.." – protested Neelix weakly.

"But even though these facts are true, I was wrong to suspect you of these so-called "practical jokes" that started to happen too often recently". Tuvok viewed the results of his tricorder scan and raised an eyebrow. "Because even though many of the cases have occurred in the mess hall you are in charge of – you could hardly have intentionally planned any damage to yourself".

"Ind-d-deed!" confirmed Neelix still indignantly. "Is-sn't that l-logical?"

Actually only part of his indignant stuttering was due to the Vulcan's suspicion. Mostly it was because of the awkward position he was in.

.

The ice-making unit in the mess-hall's kitchen part was not big in size. It was just a two-door closet less than a meter high and about half-meter wide (78, 91 x48, 03 cm, as Tuvok's tricorder said), fastened on the wall about a meter from the floor (97, 57 cm exactly ). No adult male humanoid could possibly pack himself into it on his own will, even as short as Neelix.

But Neelix was now inside it, covered in ice cubes, packed in tightly with his knees to his chest and his arms bent double and pressed at his sides. He had spent about half an hour like that before his calls for help finally brought someone. It was only about 4 in the morning, and no crewmen around. Then Tuvok came in the mess hall for an early morning tea.

Finding a half-frozen Neelix-pack was definitely not Tuvok's idea of a good start for work day… He braced himself. Neelix's panic was uncomfortable, radiating from the ice unit like radio waves from a transmitter. Neelix didn't know it, but he actually didn't have to bother to scream – Tuvok sensed him the moment he steeped into the door. The screams only helped locate the exact spot quicker.

And when Tuvok opened the ice closet, Neelix was sitting there on something ovoid-shaped, resembling an egg of a large bird and brightly colored in swirls of orange, red and light blue. Or rather having it between his lower belly and feet, like a penguin. A blonde and spotted penguin, but squawking just like it. Well, after half an hour huddled in the ice Neelix could mostly only stutter.

And the reason why Tuvok still hadn't extracted him out of that tight place and was now only scanning him and talking to him was not Tuvok being cruel, of course. (Though Neelix plaintively thought that Tuvok really could have tried and showed at least some sympathy). The reason for that was some strange kind of force-field preventing Neelix to get out. That force-field probably had something to do with fabricating ice. What was much more interesting for Tuvok was how Neelix had gotten inside in the first place.

In Neelix's own words, "it suddenly buzzed behind me like a nest full of giant red flies, then opened, sucked me in like vacuum, and slammed shut!" A very interesting malfunction, but that was for the engineering repair team to find out and specify. Meanwhile Tuvok talked to Neelix to calm him down. With little effect, he had to admit.

When the engineering team finally arrived with repair-kits, yawning, their yawns turned into jaw-drops and then into snickers (muffled half-heartedly under Tuvok's glare and his stern order to "calm down and repair the malfunction!", but not completely muffled).

Ten minutes later the force-field was deactivated, Neelix was pulled out of the ice-unit by Tuvok, limb by limb, dragged to the stove (helpfully lit by one of the ensigns) and left near it on a chair to thaw.

.

Sitting near the kitchen gas fire and finally feeling his cluttering teeth stop doing that awful thing, Neelix congratulated himself on surviving the torture that this so-called practical joke had turned into very soon. He had to congratulate himself because Tuvok definitely wasn't going to do it. But Neelix could forgive any Vulcan lack of social niceties today. Because if not for Tuvok, the notorious early bird, who'd have known how much more time Neelix would have been stuck there until someone else decided to wake up and get tea.

Neelix was alarmed at how often the mess hall had recently begun to turn into a real mess.

Take that embarrassing situation involving the Captain and Commander Chakotay, for example, just the other day... Chakotay then threatened to personally left-hook, upper-cut and knock out anyone who would dare to gossip. But of course they still gossiped when he couldn't hear.

And earlier, when all kitchen towels and napkins starting to leave color on hands and faces? His own and all of the dining crew? Well, Kes looked pretty even smudged all over… Most of the crew just laughed. But someone got allergic, developing rash and another started choking – and the Doctor had to teleport urgently to the mess hall. And then he took his sweet time to angrily lecture Neelix on the standards of hygiene. Until Tuvok (who managed to stay annoyingly clean) pointed out, that the towels and napkins were not dirty. They were just… hmm… too colorful.

Or when all spoons and forks disappeared and then reappeared roughly welded together into a hideous abstract pseudo-sculpture (the only identifiable parts were whiskers and a big Mohawk not unlike Neelix's). Would be fun, but it fell on Neelix from a shelf, missing him only by a hair width.

And all the gossip floating around the mess hall about incidents (they called them pranks) all over the ship for nearly two weeks. Incidents in showers (more colors on someone), in the gym (equipment becoming soft, melting and bending), in private quarters (someone got scared at night) and so on.

Of course, Security Chief Tuvok soon began taking it all seriously and decided to have a good look into it all.

Neelix thought it was high time. He definitely didn't have any fun with that ice unit. If anything, it was hazardous more than ridiculous.

But he was lucky to have Tuvok come to rescue. As for the Vulcan, he definitely didn't think himself lucky at all…

"Mr. Neelix, come to the replicator!" a young Engineering ensign suddenly appeared at his side, snorting from laughter. "Looks like Mr. Tuvok's got himself into a real mess…"

Neelix stared in disbelief:

"He didn't!"

But he definitely did.

.

"You don't have much luck with your investigation so far, do you?" asked Neelix later.

They both were finally cleaned by giggling ensigns (as well as it is possible in the kitchen, and thankfully there were still very few people in the mess hall at this early hour). Now they were comfortably seated at the corner table with tea-cups in hand (tea hand-brewed by Neelix, as much a chef's courtesy as the result of the new disaster).

There was nothing else to do while waiting for the clean uniform for Tuvok to arrive. The sleepy young female security ensign called by Tuvok for this purpose dropped her jaw at the sight of him and at his order, but promptly straightened up with a "Yessir!" and turned on her heel to go and fulfill the order, eyes wide. "At least someone here can maintain her composure," thought Tuvok approvingly, allowing himself some pride for his subordinates. That was his school showing. But the discipline in the Engineering department was obviously deplorable.

Three Engineering ensigns now worked on the kitchen replicator that had gone crazy about twenty minutes ago and had spat several kilos of ice-cream all over Tuvok. Neelix rushing to rescue only succeeded in getting ice-creamed himself. Now an ensign from Ops was rolling a cleaning machine over the melting snow-drifts of ice-cream, occasionally bumping it into the engineers' backsides.

One of the Engineering ensigns quietly regretted such a waste of good product. Another, a human female, even more quietly objected that it was totally worth wasting ice-cream just to see Tuvok as a snowman. "I wish I could lick him all over!" she whispered passionately, and then added crossly: "But you guys were in the way!" The first ensign, a human male, muttered: "Now I'm jealous!" The third one, a Bolian male, hissed: "Shut up, you both! He can hear you!" The ensigns were not quiet enough for Vulcan ears, of course.

On hearing about "licking" Tuvok's face briefly redisplayed the disgust that had been quietly simmering on it all the time the ice-cream was being removed from his person. Humans can be so gross! Also that white substance was not only embarrassing to be covered in – it was cold! And he had asked the replicator for hot tea... He pulled on a stony expression again and made a mental note to later ask that female ensign some questions. If she approved of this disgusting practical joke… that was definitely suspicious.

He clasped the tea-cup with both his hands to get warm and turned to Neelix again: "You were asking?"

"I said: you don't have much luck with your investigation so far, do you?" repeated Neelix obligingly.

"I don't believe in luck, Mr. Neelix. But if you mean that I am still not close to finding who does these things…"

"You know what, Mr. Tuvok? You need help! You can't do this alone. You need a capable aide, a trusted sidekick who knows his way around the ship and in general knows a lot. Every great detective must have one!"

The Vulcan's eyes rolled high up to the ceiling:

"And who might it be, Mr. Neelix?"